


Wandering Spirit (The Rewriting Legends Remix)

by Solanaceae



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:36:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1612001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solanaceae/pseuds/Solanaceae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finduilas, after death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering Spirit (The Rewriting Legends Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Revels in Silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194708) by [Elleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth). 



She couldn't breathe.

Her hands moved before her face, battering at thin air, and she could see the vague forms of trees through her own flesh, as though through a pane of clouded glass. She couldn't _breathe_ , every breath in went _nowhere,_ and she––

And she was fine.

(Dead. You're _dead._ )

There – undeniable fact. She remembered the Orc's spear, the roughness of the tree bark at her back, the warm spread of her own blood. _Dead._

So now what?

There was a distant memory somewhere, her father's solemn eyes peering down at her. _The halls of Mandos. Reembodiment._ A blessing of the Valar, for the immortal ones trapped in bodies susceptible to cold steel.

And she could feel the tug westwards, her consciousness a scrap of mist caught by the wind. It promised peace, and it promised silence.

She wanted no part of that.

======

The wind tore at the trees, branches whipping wildly amid the driving rain, but she felt nothing, heard nothing. Moved through the forest without touching the ground, the undergrowth passing through limbs that were not entirely there.

Someone was crying.

She found the girl curled up on the mound that marks the spot where her own body lay, a patch of piled-up earth covering white bone. Her fair hair spread across the dark earth, her body shuddering with sobs of terror.

She reached out, fingers hovering over the girl's bare skin, and she was startled to see them tremble.

 _I'm afraid, too,_ she wanted to say. _I've been afraid for a long time. But it's not so bad, over here._

The trees above them give a mighty shudder as a fresh gust of wind shook them. The girl cried out with fear, twisting into the earth as though to hide herself from the world's fury.

Without thinking, she reached out and brushed the girl's shoulders with formless fingers, knowing it was pointless, knowing she would not be felt.

The girl started upright, and looked straight into her eyes.

======

The garden was quiet.

Here, waiting for her love to come, she could bury her face amid blossoming flowers and pretend she could still smell a faint sweetness. Here, there was still hope, and a reason to remain.

Her love would come when night fell, and they would wander wherever they wished until dawn broke. 

The girl was not afraid of her. 

(Sometimes she smiled, reaching out to touch empty space, and a houseless spirit felt the warmth of her touch.)


End file.
